Yes, Primrose, There is a Santa Claus
by Dracoisalooker76
Summary: On Christmas, Haymitch reminisces about his first holiday season with the girls. Do Not Go Gentle Universe. Scenes from pre-DNGG and post-Two.


I wanted to post something for Christmas but, alas, my laptop decided it needed to go spend the night at the Apple hospital, so the modern day AU that I was planning is unfortunately unavailable. This close to Christmas, I figured jumping into one of my pre-made worlds was the way to go. Plus, those pictures of Jennifer at the Children's Hospital that circulated this week, along with all the Christmas do-gooders I saw on my local news station, fueled some Do Not Go Gentle plot bunnies. Thus, this – a feel-good, probably super cheesy, oneshot.

* * *

**Yes, Primrose, There is a Santa Claus**

* * *

_Dear Santa,_

_I know you make toys but I do not have a toy I want this year. I want you to make my sister hurt less. I do not like seeing her cry. That is my Christmas wish._

_If you have to give me a toy, I asked for an American Girl doll for my birthday but didn't get one. All the girls at my new school have one. I would like to play with them._

_Thank you Santa_

_Love,_

_Primrose Faith Everdeen_

_PS. Since momma and daddy died Katniss and I live with Uncle Haymitch now. I put his card in the envelope so you do not get lost._

* * *

December 2005

* * *

Prim fidgeted next to me, her eyes wide as she looked around at all the people hurrying around the mall while we waited in line. The line to see Santa at the Santa's Village display in the center of the mall probably rivaled a football field in length and after waiting for an hour we were just then nearing the front. But Prim had been bugging me for a week to see Santa and I finally had a chance to take them.

Prim tugged at my jeans. "Uncle Haymitch, do you think Santa will be mad that I'm giving him my letter now?" She bit her lip as she watched a band of brothers sit on Santa's lap. "Christmas is next week."

"I think it's fine, Blondie."

Santa had already bought her presents anyway. They were stored in my closet in a bag, along with Santa's gifts to her sister.

I juggled Katniss in my arms like I saw a woman do a few yards in front of us with her own whiny kid. Katniss pressed her face into my neck and the bow on her hat tickled my chin. She was exhausted and if Prim hadn't waited patiently through Katniss's appointments and my meeting earlier that day, I would have already had the two of them loaded in the truck and heading to the house. But I couldn't do that to Prim. She had been second to her sister for a long time and this was something I could do for her.

We stepped closer to the front of the line as the boys jumped off Santa and rejoined their mother in the crowd.

At this point, I'd had custody of the girls for three months and it had gone by so extraordinarily fast that Christmas sprung up on all of us. This was the first Christmas that I was celebrating without Maysilee and, earlier in the year, I had thought I'd spend it with a bottle of Jack and a few good memories. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately if you squinted, Hunter and Clara also departed for the pearly gates, and left me the two munchkins in their wills. My plans to drown in sorrow were quickly replaced with making Christmas as normal as possible for them.

Of course, I had no idea what that meant.

Maysilee and I never had kids. We were talking about it when we reunited with Hunter and Clara seven years ago and, after seeing the hell they dragged themselves through with Katniss, we decided against it. We pretty much raised Prim anyway. I was the one there for the kid's first sentences, first haircut, first day of school…while her parents had other, more life or death, things to deal with. But, as much as I was around Blondie throughout her life, I was never the one responsible for making Christmas happen.

And that's why I didn't realize Santa visits shouldn't wait until last minute. At least I didn't say anything – I didn't even realize the two still believed in the old fat guy.

I wasn't cut out to be a father.

We stepped forward again. What a big fucking joke this whole thing is.

I adjusted Katniss in my arms, trying to figure out the best way to hold her. She might have been twelve, but she was no bigger than Prim. In fact, at this point, Prim still weighed more than her and they were the same height. After her little stint in the ICU, while she recovered from an infection, she dropped down to thirty-five pounds and was barely more than skin and bones. It was my call, my first as her legal guardian, to okay the feeding tube put in to get her weight up and it was working slowly but surely. In the three months since she'd left the ICU, she was nearly back up to what she was, but the poor kid wasn't better. She couldn't walk when she woke up, after spending weeks and weeks in a bed, and she'd been going to physical therapy, occupational therapy, so many different appointments I could barely keep track of it all.

I should have grabbed one of those push-cart things people put their kids in. Her new PT guy, Finnick Odair, told me that she shouldn't go out to places for more than a half-hour if she didn't have a place to sit down. Of course, I didn't believe him, the new hot-shot who just graduated. He was right though and now I'm stuck holding her because I can't let her lay on the floor.

"How you doin', sweetheart?" I asked. She sighed and buried her face further into my neck.

People were giving us all sorts of looks. I suppose most people weren't used to seeing bald kids. I put my hand on the back of Katniss's head, my palm making contact with the crocheted white yarn that made up her little beanie, as if that would block the stares and pitying looks our way.

Prim and I exchanged glances and I could tell from the look on her face that she expected me to tell her we were leaving. It's something her parents probably would've done.

"Almost there, Blondie. Got your letter ready?"

She grinned and held up the envelope. "Right here!"

It took another twenty or so minutes to reach the gate to Santa's Village and be greeted by an elf or whatever she was supposed to be. Her name tag read Effie and she looked like she was probably in high school, maybe a first year in college.

"Hello, what's your name?" she asked, patting Prim on the head.

"Primrose!" Prim squealed. She pointed to me. "And this is Katniss!"

Effie nodded. "Well, Primrose, this is a big, big, big moment. Do you know what you're going to ask Santa for?"

Prim nodded. "I got my letter right here!" she said, waving her envelope in Effie's face.

The group ahead of us hopped off Santa's lap, carrying candy canes as they hurried after their mother. Effie told Prim she was going to check with Santa to see if he was ready for her and then, after she had probably told Santa her name, beckoned us forward. Another elf opened the gate and Prim skipped toward Santa, leaping up onto his lap without abandon.

I put my mouth to Katniss's ear. "You want to sit with Prim?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Well, Merry Christmas, Miss Primrose!" Santa said, patting her cheek with his gloved hand. He smiled widely at her. "What would you like to ask me for?"

Prim held her letter out. "I wrote this for you!" she said. "It's my Christmas wish!"

"Thank you very much." He handed it to Effie. "I'll make sure Effie puts that in a safe place for when I head back to the North Pole. Why don't you just tell me your Christmas wish now?"

Suddenly, the always extroverted Prim became very shy. She glanced up at me and then looked up at Santa. "I want you to make my sister better."

I had to give the actor credit – the look of dread and shock only crossed his face briefly before he recovered. He smiled at Prim. "What a wonderful sister you are," he said, looking quickly over at me and Katniss before looking back toward the kid on his lap. "Why don't you tell me about your sister and what she might want for a toy?"

Even at eight, Prim was a talker. She launched into a story easily and thoughtfully, telling this fake Santa Claus about how Katniss had always been sick and how now she was getting better but she hurt a lot because of her therapy. She tapped her finger to her lips when she thought about what Santa might bring her sister and then told him about some doll I had never heard of and neither one of them would be getting this close to Christmas.

Then Prim had her picture taken, Effie handed her a candy cane and tried to give one to Katniss, but she wouldn't look up from my neck, and then we left, Prim chatting the entire way home about how nice Santa was to still take her letter even though Christmas was so close and me dreading the look on her face Christmas morning when whatever she asked for in that letter wasn't there. Katniss wasn't going to get better in the next week and, unless she asked for a stuffed Simba from the Disney Store, Santa wasn't fulfilling any wishes that year.

…

I started running the It Can Be Good Again Foundation out of my study a year before, once the paperwork went through for its non-profit status. Since then, I'd been receiving letters, donations, and sometimes packages from people who had learned about it and Katniss's story. The outpouring of support from people around the country had been a little shocking at first, but after the third or fourth care package addressed to Katniss and the first large-sum donation came through, I started to realize that this was a real thing. It wasn't something I ever thought I'd get used to, but it was something that I could grasp.

So, when I stopped by the post office to pick up the mail from the PO Box I set up for the Foundation on Christmas Eve, I wasn't extraordinarily surprised to have a package. The size was much larger than usual and it was addressed to me, but that didn't send off any red flags. The thing that surprised me was the return address: Kris Kringle, North Pole.

I waited until the girls were in bed, the Oreos and milk laid out for Santa already eaten, to open it.

Inside were two wrapped boxes in special "Santa" paper. Each had a tag and a bow and some ribbon. One said: To Primrose Love Santa. The other: To Katniss Love Santa. On Prim's, stuck in the ribbon, was an envelope.

I opened it, of course, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Inside the envelope was Prim's letter to Santa and a handwritten note in reply.

_Dear Primrose,_

_I am very happy that you stopped by my village in the mall while I was visiting Charleston from the North Pole. I was thrilled to see you and hear firsthand what you wanted. Unfortunately, my Christmas magic is used to make toys, so I myself cannot grant you your wish. However, there are a bunch of doctors who asked my elves for toys that they can use to help your sister feel better._

_You are a very kind and wonderful little girl, Primrose, and because of this I'd like for you to still have a good Christmas. I've given both you and Katniss a doll to play with in hopes that it will make you both smile while you wait for magic of a different kind that will make your sister hurt less. Sometimes, a little faith and a lot of smiles go a long way in making someone feel better._

_Merry Christmas, Primrose!_

_Love,_

_Santa Claus_

At the very bottom of the box, once I took out the two wrapped gifts, was a card. It looked like a leftover Christmas card with a sleigh image on the front.

_Dear Mr. Abernathy,_

_After you brought the girls to Santa's Village, I was touched by Primrose's kindness toward her sister. After a shift of hearing kids asking for this and that, it was kind of inspiring. I read the letter after my shift and used the business card she left me to learn more about your organization through the webpage. Katniss's story is quite humbling and I was thrilled to hear she's now in remission._

_I understand that you probably already bought gifts for the girls from Santa, and possibly even what we bought them, but after learning more my wife and I wanted to do something. So in lieu of buying each other gifts this year, we'd like to do something more important. In the boxes the girls will open are two of the American Girl dolls – Felicity and Samantha, each with a set of books that goes with them. My wife picked them out. I hope this package arrives in time for Christmas. If the girls already have them from a different Santa Claus, please donate these dolls to the children's hospital through your foundation._

_Have a happy holiday,_

_Your Charleston Town Center Santa_

* * *

December 25, 2028

* * *

I set the letter down and pull myself out of my memories.

That first year I had the girls, I kept a lot of shit. I archived every painting, every art class drawing, pretty much everything they did because I was under the impression that it was what I was supposed to do. Hell, I had no idea what I was doing back then. I was so close to drowning most days, but somehow I managed. The fact that the girls didn't end up fucked is all that really matters to me.

The door slams downstairs.

"Haymitch! Where are you?"

"Kids, go find Grandpa."

Two sets of thundering feet charge the stairs. I hear them opening and closing every door in the upstairs. Katniss's old room, Prim's, the bathroom, the closets, and finally–

"Grandpa!" Lucy squeals, rushing to jump up on the bed and wrap her arms around me. Eli runs after her, and jumps up on the bed too but decides the mattress is more fun than an old man like me. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Lucy," I say, standing and bringing her with me. Having a kid clinging to me is familiar now. "Eli, what day is it?"

"Christmas!" the four year old shouts. "I got pressies from Santie Claw!"

Lucy looks around and then back at me while Eli keeps jumping up and down on my bed. "What are you doing up here, Grandpa?"

I reach down to the bed and grab the letters before Eli steps on them. They're old now and starting to yellow. Eli's foot will put a hole right through them.

"Oh, nothing much," I say, setting the letter down on my side table and reaching over to grab Eli with my other arm. He's a wiggly one and hard to hold onto, but I manage pretty well for an old guy like me. I've always been decent at managing. "Let's go downstairs before everyone else gets here."

Katniss and Peeta are standing in the living room when we get down there. Peeta has his arms wrapped around her shoulders, his chin on her head, as she hums along with the radio. Eli struggles to get down once he sees her. A mama's boy in the making, that one. But Lucy stays with me. She's a familiar weight, about the same size as Katniss was all those years ago, but without the fear that came with her mother.

I still get scared around her mother. Even after all this time it's hard not to wonder if this will be the last holiday season we spend with her. Every year that's proven wrong is one to celebrate.

My door basically has no hinges during the holidays. It's something that I both long for and despise. The laughter that reverberates off the walls is something that I've grown used to over the years. The Hawthornes and everyone in their broods come by and Sae comes from next door to help prepare plate after plate with Hazelle. Prim and Rory are the only two that don't show their faces – apparently Prim drew the short stick and ended up working Christmas Eve night at the hospital so flying down was out of the question. Hazelle's still pissed that Rory stayed up there with her considering there's nothing between them. I call bullshit on that one. Who the hell do those two think they're fooling except maybe Katniss? We wish them happy holidays over Skype this year and they promise to come down for New Years.

It's way past my bedtime by the time my house is mine again. Peeta has to carry Eli out to the car as he sleeps off his excitement. Lucy gives me a sweet kiss and hug and Katniss threatens to leave her here, without any of her new toys, if she doesn't hurry. When the door shuts, the house is still and quiet.

I head into my study and pour myself a glass of whiskey as I look over the notes on my desk. The December list of donors to the Foundation is on the left and I steal a peek. I'm not normally one for sentimentality, but there's one donor I've come to look for. CTC Santa gives twenty-five dollars every year with the statement: For Katniss and Primrose, the true spirit of Christmas. I chug the rest of my whiskey and say a quick Christmas prayer for May, Hunter, and Clara, before stuffing the sheet into its correct folder on my desk.

And then I head to bed.

* * *

Notes:

The title is taken from "Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus" Christmas folklore.

For those of you who remember, Effie makes another appearance in DNGG as the receptionist at Panem Children's Hospital at the information desk. You can decide for yourself if Katniss and Prim had any influence or if it was just a coincidence.

Charleston Town Center Mall is the mall in Charleston, WV, although the Santa display is fictional and based off the one I went to as a kid.

The American Girl dolls that Santa sends to Katniss and Prim are actual dolls. Felicity and Samantha both debuted in 1991. The movie based on Samantha's story line came out in 2004 and starred Annasophia Robb, who is my headcanon Prim for this series. Felicity's movie came out the next year, making them popular choices around the time this story is set. Both dolls are now archived - Samantha in 2009, Felicity in 2011.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!


End file.
